


"Fili's Children"

by WithywindlesDaughter



Series: The Private Lives of Dwarves [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dwarves coming home, Erebor homecoming, Fili has self-doubt, Fili's Children, Fili's injury, Kili has nightmares, Kili's night terrors, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 05:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/949348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithywindlesDaughter/pseuds/WithywindlesDaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the dwarves retake Erebor Fili has a difficult time in his first year as ruler but he finally has his wild brother by his side.  As their people start to return he eagerly awaits the arrival of the rest of his family.</p><p>The sequel to "Letters to Kili".</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Fili's Children"

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Letters to Kili](https://archiveofourown.org/works/879029) by [WithywindlesDaughter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithywindlesDaughter/pseuds/WithywindlesDaughter). 



> This was to be the ending to "Letters to Kili" but it did not fit in with the flow of the story so I ended it where I did and decided to post this as a stand-alone.

**_"Fili's Children"  
_ **

**_A Sequel to "Letters to Kili"  
_ **

****

****

****

**_Erebor_ **

**_Year One_ **

**_After the Fall of Smaug, Autumn_ **

 

 

 

The year following the Fall of Smaug was a hard one for the dwarves of Erebor.  It would be months before even the first of the exiles living in the Blue Mountains would start to arrive and only craftsmen and miners for the work.  The families would not even leave Ered Luin until the spring, not wanting to cart their children and household goods through the snow and mud-choked roads.  The Iron Hills were closer and camps of laborers came once the road was safe enough to travel.  Bard organized work parties from Lake Town to start excavating the ruins of Dale the dwarves helped where they could.  But they had not food nor comfort and even when Fili opened his treasury it was still long before caravans could reach them, held back for fear of the remaining packs of orcs, goblins and wargs that still roamed the wild.  It was a long winter of cram and whatever wild game they could find, Fili insisting that those recovering from injuries received during the battle be given the meat to aid in their recovery.

“You’re injured too,” Kili gently reminded him.  Fili gently reached up to touch his other’s face with his good hand.  “I know, but I can’t eat when so many of my people go hungry.” 

Fili’s left shoulder was a long time in healing.  Oin taught Kili how to secure the arm in place so the bones would heal and he would dutifully rebandage the injury before bed at night and after soaking in the hot springs within the mountain.  That was one of the first things they had opened up, the natural hot springs that bubbled up and served as a soaking tub and sauna for the dwarves and Kili insisted he get in every day to relax his tight muscles.  Fili was grateful for the loving care he was given and for Kili’s presence by his side.  By rights Thorin should have been King Under The Mountain for another fifty years at the very least.  Fili had watched Thorin rule all of his young life, but that was different from actually doing it.  Kili went to the abbreviated council meetings with him and Fili made it clear that as a Prince of Erebor and his heir he was to be listened to.  Some of the counselors that had come from the Iron Hills had trouble with that at first, but Kili was not shy about using his fists to express himself and the years working a forge had grown strength into his lean muscles. 

Fili relied heavily upon the members of the company for help and advice.  None of them needed to work really, their share of the contract guaranteeing all of them a lifetime of prosperity, but dwarves are industrious creatures and they threw themselves into their tasks with a will.  Ori reopened the Royal Archives, still intact but many of the books had smoke damage from Smaug and others needed their spines or covers repaired from falling.  There was even a special collections vault deeper in the mountain but the iron doors were jammed shut and it was going to be a while before they could be opened.  Dori had found his way into the textile quarter where the looms and equipment were still usable even if the textiles themselves were not.  He even found clay pots full of powdered dyes that were still good.  Nori returned to doing what he had always done, only now he did it for Fili and there was not an untoward whisper or event in the mountain that the king did not know about. 

Balin was, as ever, his capable administrator, handling contracts and paperwork with a precision that made Kili’s head ache.  Dwalin lost no time in organizing the guard and training the new recruits that came from the Iron Hills.  The tale of Kili taking on the Orc King with a bow had spread through the camp, the soldiers calling him the _Rukh-Abzagal_ , the Orc Slayer, and Kili had recruited a fair number of them into an archery corps.  Those not suited for a bow found themselves training under Dwalin and Gloins merciless tutelage and the infirmary Oin had opened in the old healers wing saw a steady line of visitors.  Bombur opened the vast kitchens and found them workable for the most part as soon as the chimneys could be cleared.  There were a hundred small bake shops around the residential quarters, but for now they all just used the main kitchen.  Plumbing was a much greater problem but would have to wait until the engineers arrived so they had to make due.  Fortunately the underground springs still flowed but the drains had to be cleared and sanitation was an issue.  Fili did not want their water supply tainted or to see disease spread among his people so he had to organize a privy disposal system until they could find a better solution and chamber pots were in great demand. 

Bofur and Bifur had immediately started exploring, testing bridges and walkways for soundness, delving into treacherous tunnels and passageways where there had been cave-ins an the rock groaned when they set feet on it.  Bifur was especially attuned to the stone, tapping at it and listening to it speak.  They marked out which areas were safe and which would have to remained closed until more help could come.  Then they started exploring the mines, both of them with a lifetime of experience in the darkness.  Bofur was cautious, wary of old ropes and damaged equipment, but Bifur was fearless and took the plunge over the edge to inspect the rock face.  Sometimes in their journeys they found remains of dwarves trapped and killed when the dragon came.  Sometimes they found a family insignia, sometimes there was no way to know who they had been, just a guard, a jewel cutter, a child’s toy.  Those were always the hardest.  The Family Ur had never lived in the mountain, it did not matter, these were their people now.  They opened up one of the unused tombs and laid them all out as they found them, Bifur singing songs in the old language to the dead.

 

* * *

 

 

When Spring came the mountain breathed a sigh as if finally appeased after that long torturous year.  The scouts came back from patrol reporting that green and growing things were starting to push up through the ash in the dragon wastes.  The first trade caravans arrived carrying smoked meat, salt, grains and basic household goods.  Fili’s willingness to buy everything they brought encouraged more trade to come, some of which he sent to Bard’s workers at Dale.  Dain’s engineers arrived and started addressing some of their bigger repair problems and finally the ravens arrived with news that the exiles were leaving for Erebor and should be there by the harvest. 

Kili spent much of his time with Fili, helping him retrain his left side to move and flex.  Once the bones knitted the joints were stiff, the muscles withered and it was a secret only between them and The Company, hidden under thick cloaks and winter garb.  Kili always stood on his left to prevent him from being jostled in public and in private he was the lone witness to the tears and the pain when the arm was stretched, fingers creeping up the wall to flex the joint.  Likewise Fili was the only witness to the terrors Kili experienced in the depths of the night, the battle replying over and over again in his head only this time he arrived too late or there was no giant bear come cleave through the orc horde to save them at the last moment.  Fili would wake him in the darkness and hold him, stroking his hair and whispering reassurances that, yes, he was still there.  And when the shadow of doubt in his own abilities and the burden of untested leadership proved too great Kili would take him for a “meeting in private” in their rooms, the others assuming they were making up for lost time when in truth Fili would lay across his chest and whisper, _“I can’t do this.  I’m not ready…”_

The returning of the green seemed to trigger something healing for the brothers after the dark cold of winter.  Young trees sprouted in the grass and small flowers that had broken through the ash.  Carpenters and stonemasons arrived to speed the reconstruction of Dale while engineers and metalsmiths addressed some of the biggest problems inside of the mountain itself.  The Dunedain returned bringing Elladan and Elrohir from Rivendell and Kili was happy to see them again.  “Nae saian lumme’” he called out and Fili wondered when his figity brother had taken the time to learn the language.  Elrond had sent medicines, advice and news of their Hobbit.  “Bag End is a beautiful home,” Fili remembered.  “I am glad he got back in time.  Hobbits have the right of it, friends, food, a snug home underground.  I especially liked the food.”

“The Dunedain pass near The Shire quite often on their travels,” Elladan offered.  “We could send along any messages for you.”

“Thank you but our own Master Bofur will be shortly undertaking a journey there himself, Fili replied.  “It seems he and Bilbo have become quite close.”

During the winter the dwarves had spent much time sorting the treasury out and they had discovered many items of an elvish nature, some weapons but mostly in the form of jewelry, which was quite unlike dwarf-make.  Balin was of the opinion that it may have come from the dragon itself, having a good mental catalog of things that had been before.  He asked the brothers to take some of it back with them to make up for certain troubles they may have caused during their stay.  Elrohir looked at the chest full of delicate twining pieces adorned with gems.  “The two of you are the most unlikely dwarves I have ever come across.  They say one never departs the House of Elrond unchanged.”

 _“Is that a compliment?”_ Fili whispered.  Kili nodded. 

The four of them struck an unexpected friendship, sharing the burden of expectation brought about by their position of birth.  They traded stories late into the night of travel and adventures, of the loss of Nali and of Celebrain, of Thorin and Elrond’s grinding dedication to a higher cause and the trouble they would get into.  “Father once caught us bathing in the Pools of Reflection during the Midsummer Celebration,” Elladan confided.  “He gave us one of those long, reproving looks that just withers you,” added Elrohir.

Fili nodded in sympathy while Kili rolled his eyes.  “By the Maker, Thorin could bring you to your knees with one of those.”  Kili nodded in agreement.  “I once confessed to something I didn’t even do.”  And so they spent their evenings, often joined by other members of the company, and it seemed to them that the two dwarrows finally began to heal, the flicker of pain passing across Fili’s face became less and less, the dark circles fading from under Kili’s eyes.  Perhaps it was the healing power of the First Born, perhaps it was just having friends who understood them on a level no one else did, but the warming days saw them happy.  “I wonder if it is not their presence that has started the trees growing in the waste,” Fili later mused.

 

* * *

 

 

The exiles from Ered Luin started arriving along with the first harvest.  Dwarves with their households packed into wagons, elders, children.  Many of those arriving had never seen the mountain, having been born, like Fili and Kili, after The Fall.  Many arriving wandered the halls, wakening old memories long slipped into the Dreamtime.   Sometimes they would see elder dwarves standing in some certain place, hand to a door or holding an object left behind, lost in thought.  They had left as many of the residences intact as they could, hoping dwarves could return to what had been their family homes, but old ghosts still lived there, the life of a whole people ended in a flash of light and heat.  One family at a time they went to the tombs to see if they could find evidence of loved ones.  Together they sang songs to the dead.

Sometimes Fili would go talk to Thorin, sitting at the foot of the stone, telling him about the events of the day.  “The reconstruction is going well.  I wish I could say the same for the council.  I don’t know how you managed them, grasping bastards that they are.  One of them tried to introduce a marriage contract between Erebor and the Iron Hills.  Kili pinned his hand to the table with his dagger.  You’d be proud.  We need more food and blankets and men are flooding into Dale and they need supplies.  They still don’t really trust us, our people don’t trust them, but we need each other.  And Thranduil’s elves…”  Kili would find him there, listening, as if he really did hear Thorin’s words of advice and consolation.  Sometimes Kili would talk to Thorin when no one knew he was there.  “I loved you like you were my Da.  I always wanted you to be proud of me…”

 

* * *

 

 

Finally the one wagon they had been waiting for arrived accompanied by heavy guard, loaded with food, supplies, three small children and a dwarrowdam dressed in a long coat and leggings.  “There they are!” Fili exclaimed, running forward.  Kili held back at the gate, watching as Fili carefully pulled two small boys from the wagon.  “Da!” they shouted.  “We came all the way across Middle Earth!  Is this really Erebor?  Where’s the dragon now, we want to see…”

Carefully the dwarrowdam got down, a small girl in her arms.  Fili wrapped his arms around both.  “How was your journey?  Were the babes well?  Did the boys behave?”

Dis stroked his hair in welcome.  “I never thought to come through these gates again.”

“I missed all of you,” he replied, taking the toddler from her arms.  “So much.”

_“Hello Mum…”_

Dis turned her head and looked into a pair of brown eyes.  _“Oh Mahal!  Kili!”_   He stood awkwardly as she grabbed him and crushed him in a hug that drove all the breath from his lungs.  He laid his head on hers and closed his eyes, not trying to pull away until he felt bones pop.  She stroked his face.  _“Look at you, such a fine dwarf.  I missed you so much!”_

He blinked back the tears he didn’t know were falling down his face.  _“I love you, Mum.”_

Two little boys broke away from looking at the gates and tugged at their father’s coat.  “Da, is that uncle Kili?”

Fili knelt down and brushed the wild blond hair from their faces.  “That is my brother Kili, the Wild Dwarf of the West and _Rukh-Abzagal_ , who slew the orc king Bolg with his bow and arrows.  He saved my life and helped us to win the great battle.”  The boys were staring at Kili with their mouths open, a figure of legend stepped straight out of their father’s bedtime stories. 

Kili heard his words and turned towards them.  “I think I see trouble here.”

Fjallar gaped up at him with wide blue eyes.  “Did you really kill the orc king?”

“I did,” Kili knelt down and regarded them seriously.  “I shot him in the face with my bow.”

“Will you teach us to fight like that?” Nali broke in.

“Of course, all three of you.”  Kili smiled mischievously. 

Fili groaned at that, envisioning the trouble his two adventuresome boys were going to get into.  “Now listen you two,” he said sternly.  “We are still in the process of excavation and construction here.  Some of the mountain is still very dangerous and I don’t want you running about and exploring on your own.”  The boys looked at each other with excitement and then looked up at the adults with perfectly innocent expressions on their faces.  Fili knew that look.  It was the same look that he and Kili had given Dis and Thorin a thousand times, usually just before invoking some sort of horrific incident that endangered life, limb or property (occasionally all three.) 

In the meantime Kili had turned his attention to his little niece.  “Hey there.”  She turned her face from her father’s shoulder to regard him with dark eyes and reached out a chubby fist.  He brushed the dark, silky hair from her face and let her play with his own loose locks.  Finally, as if making some internal decision, she graced him with a brilliant smile.  “Little Princess,” he called her. 

“Kila,” Fili smiled.  “This is your uncle Kili.”

Dis drew them both close and breathed deep.  _“Home, finally, home.”_

 

 

 *********************

 

 

 

 

Nae saian luume' – It has been too long – Elvish greeting

Elladan and Elrohir – twin sons of Elrond and Celebrain

Imladris - Rivendell

 

Orcs – rukhs

Slayer – abzagâl

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> In this story I was very concerned with what would happen to Fili and Kili without Thorin and what would things be like when the exiles started to return to a place that spoke of so much tragedy and loss. Fili's injury would be a long time in healing, and even when it did he might not be able to completely use that arm again. Kili would have trouble with memories of the battle and of missing his brother's arrival in Erebor. 
> 
> This may turn into a future series about the adventures of Nali, Fjallar and Kila, I will see where muse takes me.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!


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